ME Kink Meme Archives: Generic FShep & Garrus
by KSCrusaders
Summary: A collection of short fiction from the old masskink meme. Contains some editorial changes from the original kmeme versions, spoilers for ME1 and ME2.
1. Hands

Somehow, getting shot at by Collectors, chasing after assassins, and escaping geth weren't nearly as exhausting as sparring sessions with Garrus Vakarian. Shepard leaned against the wall of the shuttle bay, gasping for breath as Garrus grinned up at her from the mat.

"What's the matter, Commander?" he teased as he got to his feet. "Don't tell me I'm scarier than everything else in this galaxy."

In some ways, he really was. Of course, she didn't have to tell him that. But Garrus was the only one who pushed her as much as she pushed him. He confronted her weaknesses, got under her skin. He was the only one who got this close without encountering a wall-or a punch.

The only person she'd ever propositioned on a suicide mission.

"Come on, Shepard," he said, gesturing for her to come at him for yet another pass. "Stop trying to hit me and hit me!"

She scowled a little at him, refusing to rise to his bait. Even with Cerberus's upgrades, she knew that Garrus would beat her handily in an even fight, especially without her biotics. But she also knew he was impatient, something she could use to her advantage.

Garrus lunged toward her, and she rolled deftly out of the way. Pressure points for alien species. She'd memorized them in basic, and now she spun and hit Garrus squarely in the small of the back. He gasped and fell on one knee, and she took the opportunity to kick him to the ground.

"You don't fight fair, Shepard," he said, eyes watering as she straddled him.

"There's no such thing as a fair fight," she replied. "You of all people should know that."

One of her hands came up to the scarred side of his face, and to her surprise, he turned his cheek into her touch.

He took advantage of her distraction to push against her, and within a second, the tables had turned. Now a chuckling Garrus pinned her underneath him, and short of kicking him in a very unsporting place or employing her biotics, she really couldn't wiggle free. She wasn't a brute strength sort of person.

He shifted position to hold her more tightly, and as he did so, the underarmor he wore moved to reveal what looked like a very nasty scar along his stomach. Curious, Shepard asked, "What's that from?" She reached out with her one free hand, her fingers brushing against his hot skin.

Garrus tensed a little. "Shepard-"

"No, I really am just curious. Come on, Garrus. Story break?"

He sighed as she turned big human eyes on him, smiling innocently.

"Fine," he said, rolling off of her. He pulled off the underarmor shirt and was rewarded with her curious gaze lingering on his chest-and the scars that marred his skin. Fascinated, she reached out and touched him, her fingers tracing the thin line across his stomach and waist.

Garrus fought the fluttering feeling in his stomach. "That's from my first night on Omega," he said. "Was barely off the shuttle before a pack of vorcha jumped me. One of them had a knife-superficial wound, but it woke me up."

"And this?" Her fingers shifted to another scar, this one along the ridge on his back.

"Garm," he said shortly. "We tangled once, I told you."

Her eyes traveled up to the scars on the side of his face. Neither of them said anything. Garrus reached out tentatively and brushed one knuckle against the glowing lines on her jaw.

"Did Cerberus get rid of yours?" he asked, gesturing to the smooth skin of her bare midriff. Shepard nodded.

"All but these," she said, extending her hands for him to inspect.

At first, he didn't notice anything. But when he turned her hands over to look at her palms, he noticed a web of very, very faint scars. Like burn marks, or-

"Thresher acid," she said very quietly.

He couldn't come up with anything less stupid than "Ouch" to say, so he didn't say anything. His eyes caught their reflections in the shiny metal of the shuttle bay doors-her small, smooth human form next to him.

"What's on your mind?" she asked, watching him muse.

"Why do you find me attractive?" he blurted out. Hell. He had a nasty tendency to just say whatever came to mind around her. "It's just that...we're really different," he added, trying to sound less blunt.

"I could ask the same thing of you," she said, tilting her head and narrowing her eyes at him.

Garrus hesitated as she X-rayed him with those eyes. "Well...it's-everything about you," he said rather lamely. "Your strength, your courage, your goddamn incorruptibility."

Her cheeks turned a little pink and she smiled. "Then there's your answer," she said calmly. "Garrus, I like you for who you are, not what you are." She hesitated, then added, "Though the scars do help."

"What?" he said incredulously, one of his hands coming up to the damaged side of his face.

He was about to say more, but stopped short at the small smile on her lips, the heat in her eyes. "Scars, Garrus," she said as she crawled into his lap, "make you look dangerous. They're exciting. Sexy."

He laughed, even as his stomach turned over. "Should've known you'd have a thing for men with scars. Should I be worried about Wrex?"

She punched him none-too-gently on the shoulder. "You ass. I don't share all my tastes with krogan women, you know."

He was about to say something clever when he felt her lips tracing the scars on his face, and all coherent thought stopped.

He did still have the presence of mind to scoot them behind a crate so that they didn't leave themselves in open view of the cargo deck. Then he allowed himself to collapse onto his back, eyes closed and heart pounding as her fingers, then her lips, traced the scars on his face and torso.

The first time they'd sparred together, she'd kissed him. And then they talked, and that was that. This time...he bit back a startled yelp as she nipped experimentally at the sensitive skin of his waist with blunt human teeth. For something to do with his hands, he let them rest in her thick hair, feeling its cool weight between his fingers.

Shepard didn't know how long he was going to let her touch him, but she was making the most of every second of it. She ran her hands along the plates and ridges of his chest and back, feeling the heat of his skin and his coiled strength.

"Shepard..." he hissed.

"Tell me what I have to do, Garrus," she whispered back. "How do I convince you that I want _you_?"

He took a deep, shuddering breath. "What you're doing right now is just fine," he said.

She laughed quietly. He felt her shift down along his body, then nearly bucked her off when the tip of her tongue touched his abdomen, tracing a searing path along the paler ridge of his scars.

That was the last straw. He felt his restraint snap as he rolled over on top of her, holding her arms fast in one hand. "You," he growled under his breath, "are playing with fire, Shepard."

She smiled up at him. "I live a dangerous life. Dangerous men fit right in."

And then it occurred to him that she was breathing hard, cheeks flushed, lips parted. She_ liked_ it when he got like this.

"Don't start something you don't intend to finish, Shepard," he said, giving her one last chance to back out. Her defiant gaze was the only answer he needed.

Her skin was utterly unlike his-smooth, pale, and unmarred. But he could feel the wiry muscles and quiet strength that lay behind the soft exterior, and he wondered briefly why she was letting him do this.

He wasn't gentle as he ran his talons and mouth along her body. She smelled both salty and sweet, and he nipped at her along her exposed neck, raising little red welts and causing her to gasp. His talons scraping against her skin left temporary but livid marks along her back and arms.

And all the while, her eyes were fixed on his, lips parted and gasping.

"Garrus," she asked, "are you still intent on waiting?"

He paused, then nodded. He wanted her, here and now, but he had for years. He could wait a few more months. And he certainly didn't want to cheapen her by doing it on the floor of the shuttle bay.

She smiled a little and put her arms around him, holding him close. When they got to their feet, his eyes lingered on the bright red marks marring her skin.

They'd fade with time. And on anyone else, he might feel guilty. But if Shepard liked danger, even just the illusion of it, he was happy to oblige.


	2. In the Sun

"You mean to tell us that three mercenary armies had Archangel cornered-and he just vanished under their damn noses?" said Miranda incredulously. She looked askance at Shepard, who only had eyes for Aria T'Loak.

The Pirate Queen of Omega laughed at Miranda. "I have no reason to lie to you, Cerberus lackey. I've got no problem with Archangel. But if you're looking for him, you're too late."

Shepard sighed and rubbed her temples. Nothing was ever easy. "Fine, then," she said. "Perhaps you could tell us the whereabouts of a murderer."

"Point your gun at any of my patrons," said Aria.

The commander raised her eyebrows. "I'm looking for a specific one. An Ardat-Yakshi."

The asari's expression darkened. "Yeah. I know who you're talking about. Nothing else leaves a body quite so...drained." Aria gestured for the three women to sit, looking long and hard at Samara.

"You've got her face," she said to the justicar.

Shepard tensed, but Samara didn't rise to the bait. "That is not your concern. The only thing you need to know is that I am taking her off your hands."

Aria snorted. "Good luck." She brought up a schematic of the layout of Afterlife. "I've been keeping an eye on her, making sure she doesn't go after anyone important."

"You mean you knew she was killing people all this time and did nothing?" said Miranda indignantly. Shepard shot her a warning glance, and she fell silent. The commander had every intention of staying on Aria's good side.

But the Pirate Queen didn't seem offended. "Why should I? She goes after artists, mercenary captains. Never tried to seduce me or anyone on my payroll. Though I suppose it's only a matter of time."

She zoomed in the display on the VIP section. Bar, exclusive dance floor, very expensive indeed. "Slip Jarout's name to the bouncer and he'll let you in. That's where she prowls."

Shepard nodded and got to her feet. "Thanks for the info."

"See if you're thanking me when you try to catch her," said Aria dryly. "Oh, and one more thing-she's been seeing a lot of a turian the last two days. Tall, blue armor, blue face paint. He'll lead you to her."

They had barely exited the club when Samara turned to Shepard. "Another victim," she said. "Shepard, I know we intended to take our time, but I believe we must move quickly. We must go to Afterlife, and we must go tonight."

Shepard gaped at the justicar. "Are you crazy? If Morinth's half as dangerous as you say, I'm going to need a lot more than a few hours to get ready."

Samara sighed, her proud stance breaking for just a moment. "I am sorry," she said. She seemed to be apologizing to more than just Shepard. To her other daughters, to Morinth's victims-to this unknown, unsuspecting turian. "But if we are to prevent death to another innocent, we must act now."

"Let the turian get what's coming to him," said Miranda, "And wait for a better opportunity. It's Shepard's neck on the line if you screw up."

Samara fixed Miranda with an icy stare. "I will not stand aside while this man walks unknowingly to his death."

Shepard held up her hands for silence. She looked out at Omega through the dull red haze that seemed to pervade everything, her fingers tracing the still-fresh scars on her jaw and cheek. Miranda was right-going in this soon was a lot more dangerous. But so too was Samara. And Shepard had no intention of abusing the deadly asari's oath of loyalty.

"Fine," she said, nodding at Samara. "But if we're going to do this tonight, we're doing it my way."

"Going in there with guns blazing will-"

"Tip her off, I know. That's not my plan," said Shepard with a slightly twisted smile.

"I don't understand. We need to draw Morinth out."

"There's no need," said Shepard coolly. "We've already got our bait."

Miranda caught on first. "It's a possibility. Since you've decided to save this turian's ass, we might as well put him to some use."

Samara looked like she dearly wanted to argue-Shepard was pretty sure the Code forbade the use of civilians in such a fashion. But the fact that she agreed highlighted the gravity of the situation.

* * *

"You're sure this is going to work," said Shepard as Kasumi tweaked her cloaking device.

"Positive. I've made similar adjustments to my own armor," she said. "Should extend the duration of your cloak." She waited patiently as Shepard pulled on Kasumi's dark red catsuit-black would stand out in the ruddy light of Afterlife.

"Any way to adjust this?" asked Shepard. She and Kasumi were roughly the same height, but she was decidedly more muscled than the thief. Kasumi grinned and hit a few more keys on her omnitool, changing the fabric's elasticity. The commander flipped the hood over her distinctive golden hair, then adjusted it so she could shoot properly.

Two shots. One to distract Morinth from her quarry, one to kill if Samara was compromised. That was all she got. But Shepard wasn't one of the best snipers in the Alliance for nothing. She wouldn't have much time to scope out Morinth's apartment building, but Samara had spotted out likely areas based on Morinth's tastes. Lots of balconies and wide windows.

"Oh, and put these on over your boots and hands," said Kasumi. She handed Shepard some odd black tape. "It'll muffle the sound when you jump or walk."

Shepard spared the thief a rare smile. "Thanks, Kasumi," she said. "You're a life-saver."

"I hope so," said Kasumi with a shudder. "Good luck out there, Shepard."

They ran over the plan again and again. Shepard would head out to Afterlife through the normal entrance, and make her way to the VIP section via the thin network of catwalks. Samara would keep watch outside the VIP exit and signal her once Morinth and her turian left. They'd follow at a distance, and as soon as they knew where Morinth was headed, Shepard would take up a suitable sniper position, all the while using her cloaking to keep herself hidden from both Morinth and Aria's security.

It was damn risky, but Shepard had done worse. The first bit went off without a hitch apart from one batarian guard who spotted her cloaking. She tranquilized him and left an apologetic note for Aria before continuing down to VIP.

The music here was louder, primal, more violent than in Upper Afterlife. Shepard touched her comm. "You in position?" she murmured.

"I am," said Samara. "I see no sign of Morinth, or of the turian in blue."

Shepard scanned the crowd through her scope. "Samara, there are at least three turians wearing blue down there."

"None of them in armor," replied the justicar. "Shepard, Morinth is drawn to dark people. Dangerous people. People who have killed, seen things, been places-like you."

"Thanks," muttered Shepard dryly.

"Trust me, Shepard. If this turian shows his face, he will stand out like a beacon to Morinth. And to us."

Shepard fell silent. It had been a long time since she'd had a stakeout operation, but she still remembered how to do it. To keep herself from spacing out and missing anything, she developed three separate patterns of scoping the crowd, alternating them at random. She recited engine sequencers, mass relay routes, blackjack odds as she did so, keeping herself alert and engaged.

And then, after nearly two hours, her scope fell on a turian in battle-dented blue armor. She could see makeshift repairs on his arms and legs, and he moved with both stiffness and strength. He'd been injured.

Then he turned, just a little. She zoomed the scope in on his face.

Her heart stopped cold.

* * *

Garrus got himself to stop after his third drink. He was pleasantly buzzed, the aching from the firefight dulled without completely destroying his senses. He knew it was stupid coming down here to Afterlife. Any number of mercs could also be here. He knew what he really needed were rest and food, not additional distractions.

But he couldn't help it. Only one other person had ever pulled him in the way Morinth did...and she had been dead for two years. He craved her, and the hunger in her eyes told him she felt the same way.

He wondered idly how much she knew about him. He'd told her he was a mercenary leader, that he specialized in taking down dangerous criminals, in kicking back against those who kicked the helpless. She seemed more interested in his kills than his goals, but it was nice to have _someone_ who would listen.

Not like on the Citadel. Or on Palaven.

"Hey there. Getting started without me?"

Garrus relaxed completely when he felt Morinth's cool hands brush his shoulders. "Had a rough day," he said briefly.

"I'll say," she said with a wicked sparkle in her eyes. "How many other guys here have just escaped certain death?"

She laughed at the half-furious, half-panicked expression on his face. "Don't be paranoid, darling. I'm not going to turn you in. After all, how could I pass up the chance to spend the evening with Omega's number one enemy?"

He was about to say something sharp in return, but then Morinth turned her eyes on his. He struggled briefly, then sank gratefully into their depths. Morinth placed a hand on the back of his neck, and he felt a frission of heat run up his spine.

He did catch it when she slipped a Hallix into his drink, but by now, he didn't care. He practically grabbed her hand and pulled her out to the dance floor. She laughed again and wound her arms around his neck like two serpents.

Morinth leaned forward to whisper into his ear. "I want you to dance with me with the same violence, the same passion that you use to kill. I want to feel your strength. Show me who Archangel really is."

A slightly feral grin spread across Garrus's face. "You don't know what you're getting into," he growled as he pulled her close.

Morinth's smile was lost on him, hidden in his shoulder. "Oh, I do. I most certainly do."

It took all of Shepard's self-control to stick to the plan. All of Samara's quiet, desperate pleading to break her of her daze. Samara was right-deviating from the plan now would almost certainly get Garrus killed.

But that didn't mean Shepard had to like it.

He still had that damn visor. She wondered if he had it keyed to the same frequency they'd used in the old days. A little recon couldn't hurt-or at least, that was how she justified it to Samara. She didn't bother justifying to herself.

A few seconds of fiddling with her comm, and she could hear every word they spoke, loud and clear.

"...many were there?" whispered Morinth's soft, poisonously sweet voice.

Through the scope, she saw Garrus give a turian smile, all teeth and edges. "I don't know. All three merc bands. Dozens of freelancers. I killed over half of them. Cut them down like the dogs they are."

Shepard shuddered, feeling absolutely sick to her stomach. This wasn't the Garrus she remembered-the idealistic, compassionate young cop.

She had to ask. "Is Morinth-"

"She brings out the worst in people," said Samara sadly over the comm. "Their darkest desires, most dangerous secrets. I am not surprised at the sway she has over your former colleague."

Garrus wasn't her colleague, she wanted to say. He was her friend. Her best friend. She heard Morinth whispering twisted, terrible things into Garrus's ear. Vengeance. Violence. Retribution. And him responding in kind.

She turned off the comm, sick at heart.

To her great credit, Samara said nothing. Just watched and waited as she had for four centuries.

* * *

Garrus couldn't remember the last time a woman had taken him home. Probably not since his C-Sec days.

The Hallix and Morinth's intoxicating presence had dulled that old scar, but they couldn't disappear. To distract himself, Garrus looked curiously around her apartment. Expensive and classy, but even in his foggy state of mind, he noticed exit paths, concealed panels, operational weapons on display. Impressive.

It only made him want her more. He poured himself and her another drink from her bar.

She gently pushed the glass away. "Drink if you want," she said. "But wouldn't you rather your senses be clear and sharp right now?" She smiled and leaned a little closer, her breath tickling his skin.

"You're a damn tease," he hissed. She chuckled, allowing him to pull her into his lap.

"Am I?" she asked, stroking his fringe. Garrus let out a low moan and met her eyes, heat for heat, lust for lust.

And then the world dropped out from under him, and there was nothing but her.

BANG.

Commander Shepard may have been terrified. She may have been fighting so hard to keep from shaking that her teeth drew blood from her own deathly white lips. But she was still the deadliest bitch in space when someone messed with her friends.

The high-explosive round from the sniper rifle shattered the glass with an earsplitting boom, its concussive force knocking Garrus and Morinth off of the bench. Morinth leapt to her feet with inhuman grace and speed, but the front door burst open and Samara rushed in, her biotics making her look like an avenging angel from this distance.

Samara didn't even notice when Morinth turned her gaze on Garrus, but Shepard did. Watched in horror as though in slow motion as Garrus got jerkily to his feet, as he rushed toward Samara like a charging krogan.

He was too fast, and her sight to Morinth was obstructed. Shepard swung the rifle around and aimed for the thickest part of Garrus's armor.

BANG.

She didn't have time for concussive rounds. Her second shot had been intended for Morinth, intended to slay. Shepard sank to the floor of the balcony, trembling from head to toe. "Oh god oh god oh god," she whispered.

She could still hear Samara and Morinth fighting, then a sickening crunch. Then silence, followed by Samara's voice over the comm. "The shot penetrated his armor," she said.

Shepard impressed herself with her own calm. "I'm radioing Joker. Dr. Chakwas should be down with the shuttle in a few minutes. Perform field medicine until I get there.

The rifle rattled in her hands as she put it away. At that moment, she wished that Cerberus had left her in peace on Alchera. She didn't belong in this galaxy, with this Garrus. She wasn't supposed to shoot her own best friend in the back.

* * *

It took a week for Garrus to recover. Samara suspected that the mental strain of what had happened to him, combined with the drugs, had taken a toll on his ability to heal. Shepard avoided the medbay, even snuck down to the mess at night so she wouldn't run into Dr. Chakwas. Gardner had noticed and started leaving meals outside her cabin. He was a godsend.

She went through the motions of a normal existence. Got Mordin Solus. Ran a few tasks for Aria to make up for tranquilizing her men. Shepard couldn't decide if her crew's forgiving attitude was worse than having them all go to town on her. Even Miranda kept her opinions to herself.

She'd been locked up inside the cabin for a few hours when she heard footsteps, followed by the soft clink of a mess tray. Gardner. Bless that man. She got to her feet and opened the door.

"Shepard," said Garrus. And before she could react, he stepped over the tray and closed the distance between them, his hands gripping her arm.

She froze. Just stood there, waiting for him to let her go. And the words that spilled from her mouth weren't comfort or welcome.

"You're alive," she said blankly.

Garrus gave a hollow laugh. "I could say the same of you."

He was definitely favoring one side, and there was a hole in the upper collar of his armor where her bullet had gone in. Another sickening wave of guilt swept over her. Sloppy work-a few more inches off, and she would have hit him in the neck.

She tugged herself free of his grasp, turned and headed to her bed, opening the sunroof. Bright light from Omega's star poured in, bathing them both with almost blinding sunshine.

"You saved my life, Shepard," he said very quietly. "Samara-"

"Samara can piss off. Garrus, I fucking shot you. I fucking almost killed you!"

She was yelling now, and damn it felt good to be yelling. "Don't give me that 'you saved my life' bullshit. Soldiers don't shoot their friends to save their fucking lives!" She realized she probably sounded hysterical now and didn't care. "I wish Cerberus had just left me spaced."

"I don't," said Garrus, his voice low and harsh. "It might be selfish, but I need you alive."

She rounded on him, but he kept on talking. "I'm not going to apologize for what I did on Omega, Shepard. Those merc bastards needed to pay for what they did to innocent people...and for killing my entire team." His eyes burned, and he swallowed before steeling himself to continue. "But for her..."

"I thought about it in medbay, Shepard. What she did to me. I wanted to kill-not out of justice, but out of sheer bloodlust. She made me like killing."

"Surprise," said Shepard bitterly, unable to help herself. "That's what happens when you date a mass murderer."

"You unbelievable idiot," snapped Garrus, his own temper now rising. "I don't _want_ to be like that. I don't want to be like her! But I'm not sure if I can stop."

"If you can still point a gun and pull the trigger, I don't give a damn. I'm your commanding officer, not your fucking moral compass," she hissed back. It wasn't true. But God, how she wished it was.

For a moment, he looked like she'd slapped him. But Garrus was nothing if not boneheaded. "It made you sick, didn't it?" he continued relentlessly. "Don't you think I feel the same way?"

Garrus looked at her, really looked for the first time since they both got second chances. Looked at the scars on her face, the premature wrinkles around her fierce eyes, her golden hair in the sunlight.

Morinth made him feel dark, twisted, like all his self-loathing and guilt was being bottled up and turned into some heady concoction. But he'd been wrong about Shepard. She was the opposite. She uplifted him, inspired him, even when she was furious. And now Morinth was gone, and Shepard back.

A conscience was a bitch of a thing to have, Shepard decided, blinking against the light. She hadn't left him on Omega. She couldn't turn away now.

"I'm not just gonna forget all this, you know," she said, sitting down heavily on the mattress. "If you pull another stunt like you did on Omega, I'll kick the shit out of you."

"Then save my ass. Again," replied Garrus. He tried for a tentative smile, one that Shepard returned.

"Count on it."


	3. Enemy Mine

"So let me get this straight," said Garrus, looking dubiously at the grinning human woman sitting on the bed. "I'm supposed to do some acting here? Shepard, I'm a terrible actor."

She shook her head and sighed. She'd tried explaining sex role-playing to him twice now. She decided to take a different tack. "Garrus, you've seen porn, right?"

He looked slightly affronted that she'd even asked, and she had to laugh. "OK. You know how porn films sometimes wrap up the porn in a semblence of plot? C-Sec officer and suspect, student and teacher, all that kind of stuff?"

"Right," he said, looking increasingly suspicious.

"That's what we're going to do."

He no longer looked as puzzled, though he still seemed rather dubious. "All right," he said slowly. "Tell me you have an idea."

Shepard flashed him a slow, wicked grin. "Hey, you always wanted to be a Spectre," she said. "What better place to start than in bed?"

Garrus laughed, but almost instantly, his amusement was replaced with horror at the image that suddenly sprang unbidden to his mind. He scowled at himself, disgusted, and vehemently shook his head. It took Shepard the least second longer to figure out what was going on.

"Hell no," mumbled Garrus emphatically. "I don't think this is such a good idea."

He thought she'd yell at him, be angry or disgusted. Instead, she gave him a long, appraising look before she crossed to her armor locker and removed a pistol and a pair of handcuffs.

Garrus watched her, half appalled and half astonished. "Shepard, you're not seriously-"

She set the gun and the handcuffs down in front of him. "You can always back out," she said quietly, her cheeks slightly pink. "But I think it's kind of hot. I'd like to see you get all...aggressive."

An unfathomable look crossed Garrus's face. Then abruptly, he grabbed the gun, stood up, and turned away from her. She could hear him fiddling with his omnitool briefly, then messing with the gun. Curious, she stood up to see what he was doing.

BANG.

The force of the concussive shot in the shoulder sent her sprawling back on the bed.

BANG.

Another shot, this one to her thigh. She was about to yell at him when he whispered her name...in Saren's voice. There was a moment of real terror before she realized he'd messed with his translator. Shepard closed her eyes and swallowed.

If that was how he wanted to play, she wasn't going to give up without a fight.

Even though her shoulder and leg were aching from the force of the concussive shots, even though the sound of Saren's voice coming from Garrus's mouth was making her stomach turn into knots, she still had enough wits about her to dodge the third. She threw herself sideways off the bed, the shot hitting her headboard with a loud crack.

Garrus gave a soft, bone-chilling chuckle. "Where exactly are you going to run, Shepard?" She could hear his footsteps, heavy and firm, advancing on her where she crouched. The moment his feet came into view, she lunged.

He might have been the best hand-to-hand specialist on his ship, but nothing beat good old-fashioned human ingenuity. The two of them tumbled head over heels, and before he knew what was happening, the gun was back in her hand, its cold barrel pressed against the back of his neck as she pinned him face-down against the floor.

"I never run," she said. "It's why I'm the better Spectre." He let out an angry, predatory growl and strained against her. He wiggled one of his arms free and flipped them over, his hand reaching out to pin her down at the neck.

She didn't fight. She knew she'd lost. He yanked the pistol from her unresisting hand, holding it against her temple. She heard the click of the safety and closed her eyes.

"Oh, no," she heard him whisper. Saren's voice in her ear, Saren's taloned hand at her throat. "I can play a little longer. You need to learn your place."

There was a click and then a ripping sound as cold metal slipped along her skin. The gun's cold barrel moved to her neck, his free hand hastily undoing the catches of his own armor. She felt him force her legs apart, felt his arousal brush against her stomach.

She let out a sharp gasp and heard him laugh. "So predictable." The pressure of the gun against her throat increased. "I want to hear you scream, Shepard."

And she did scream when he plunged into her body, taking her hard and fast. Her moans and cries mingled with his grunts, and every time she paused and gasped for air, she felt the gun's pressure on her throat tighten. His free hand worked down between her legs, and she felt familiar heat begin to rise to a fever pitch in her stomach.

"Please," she begged. "Let me-let me-"

"No."

He held her there, on the brink of ecstasy until he came with a roar. Only then did he pull the barrel back from her throat, allowing her to come with a long moan. She felt him collapse on top of her, heard the beeping of an omnitool, and then for a long minute, there was nothing but their labored breathing.

"Next time," Garrus mumbled against her ear, "you're the asari consort."

She laughed a little and absently rubbed her cheek against the top of his fringe. "Oh, come on. Someone more kickass. I owe you a few bruises."


	4. Providence

Shepard stared in surprise at the silver-wrapped box sitting neatly on her bed. The Normandy was quiet tonight, most of her crew ashore on Ilium for Christmas Eve. She couldn't work them every day, and giving them Christmas off had seemed like a chance for them to blow off some steam, and her to enjoy a little peace.

There were no tags on the box, nor was there a note. Her natural caution warned against opening it, but she knew nothing dangerous-other than Normandy's own formidable armory-got on the ship without EDI's knowledge. Curious in spite of herself, she called for the AI.

"Yes, Shepard?"

"Where did this come from?" she asked, gesturing toward the box.

"Officer Vakarian requested permission to deliver this to your quarters," EDI replied. "It passes safety scans."

Shepard did a double take. Garrus? Maybe it wasn't that unprecedented-she distinctly remembered Ash trying to teach her non-human crew about Christmas back on the old Normandy. Garrus's gift had been the installation of a brand-new set of stabilizers to the Mako after she dinged it up on Feros.

Whatever this was looked much smaller. She carefully removed the paper and lifted the lid.

Her mouth fell open. How had he remembered? And why now?

_Shepard wasn't the kind to bother with baubles or trinkets. She liked good guns and armor as much as the next marine, and even indulged in the occasional model ship. But her early life on earth had molded her into an imminently practical person._

_Yet even she couldn't resist gaping at the breathtaking display in the shop window on the Presidium. A hand mirror, clearly antique from Earth, spun slowly on the spot. The painstakingly crafted silver frame, decorated with real glass beads, sent patterns of light scattering across her face._

_Her eyes fell on the price tag, and she snorted softly. "Useless. Pretty, but useless."_

_Garrus peeked over her shoulder at their reflections in the little mirror. "What exactly is the purpose of decorating a mirror? Isn't the point to look at yourself?"_

_Shepard laughed a little. "It's the kind of thing you'd expect to see in Romeo and Juliet, not someone's living room." Catching Garrus's puzzled expression, she quickly clarified. "This sort of thing would be a romantic gift among humans. Not good for much else."_

It wasn't identical to the antique she and Garrus had seen on the Presidium, but it was damn close. An oval-shaped mirror with a silver frame and exquisite green and blue glass beads, smaller than the one two years ago. She removed it slowly from its wrappings.

The woman who looked back at her was older, harder than she remembered. Very faint scars from Lazarus still traced her chin and cheekbone. She put it back in the box carefully, her mind reeling.

What was Garrus playing at? She'd made it very clear that staying friends was a better, more responsible idea. No complications, no messiness. She shot to her feet, picked up the box, and headed to the elevator.

* * *

He expected her to be surprised. He hoped she'd be happy. What he hadn't expected was the confused anger in her voice when she charged into the main battery and held the open box out to him.

"Garrus, what's the meaning of this?"

Panic seized him for a moment. Had he gotten the date wrong? "It's a...Christmas gift."

Shepard put the mirror down on the bench and put her hands on her hips. "I know that."

There was a very long silence before Garrus asked quietly, "Well? Do you like it?"

Shepard opened her mouth, then closed it again. It was undeniably a beautiful mirror, and she was touched he'd remembered that conversation at all, but she couldn't accept it. Not with all that had gone on between them the last two weeks. Not now, when it had just stopped being awkward talking to him.

She took a deep breath-she knew she had to explain human customs to her non-human crew, but it didn't make it any less uncomfortable. "Garrus," she began calmly, "I'm not sure if you remember what I said about the significance of a gift like this."

"Shepard, my memory's not that selective."

She gaped as he watched her with unfathomable eyes. "Then why in the world-" She cut herself off before she said something stupid, closed her eyes, and started again. "Garrus, we discussed this. We decided it was a better idea to stay friends."

"No." His voice was so quiet it was almost more of a growl. He took a step toward her, closing the distance between them to less than a foot. "You decided." His mandibles twitched nervously and he shrugged. "I...wanted to change your mind."

Still she said nothing. Her eyes darted between him and the mirror. He too looked down at it, the little surface reflecting just a shadow of the scars criss-crossing his face. When the silence continued to drag on, he stepped back and ran a hand over his fringe.

He dropped his gaze from hers and picked up the mirror. A scarred and hard-bitten turian stared back at him, completely at odds with the beautiful object resting awkwardly in his claws. He tossed it back haphazardly in the box and turned away from her. The door opened behind her as he tapped something into the console.

"Forget it," she heard him murmur. "Sorry for upsetting you."

The bitterness in his voice sliced her to the core. She'd never heard him talk like that, and never to her. She reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder, but he flinched away.

"Garrus..." she began quietly.

"Just drop it, Shepard."

Feeling her temper begin to rise, she put a hand firmly on his arm and spun him around to face her-hard. "I will_ not_ drop it," she said sharply.

"Why the hell not?" he demanded, painfully echoing his own words from a very different time and place. "I can't help that just about every man on this ship has eyes for you. I can't help thinking about you day and night. I wish you'd never said anything about us in the first place, but I goddamn well can't help that either!"

Stunned at his outburst, Shepard took a step back. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Garrus, equally astonished at his own nerve, got there first.

"I just...damn. I seem to make a mess of everything I touch." He looked from her to the mirror, glinting in the low light. "I wish-" He stopped himself, shutting his mouth with an almost audible clamp. Wishing wasn't going to solve anything. What had he been thinking? Of course he was being inappropriate, not to mention insubordinate He turned from her and roughly turned the mirror facedown before shoving the box to the side, with the rest of his tools.

"Don't," she said instinctively. "Please don't be like this."

He went back to the console, not looking at her. She could tell he was trying not to shout again. "Just give me a clear reason why not," he said with forced calm. "I think you owe me that."

Shepard looked from Garrus with his back turned to her to the box sitting askew among the spare components. She picked up the mirror, turning it so she could see the good side of his face, his eyes fixed unmoving on his console.

She was having trouble coming up with one at the moment. "I can't," she said quietly.

"Don't toy with me, Shepard."

"I'm not."

He froze when he felt one of her hands running down his arm toward his own hand resting on the console. Her other hand reached up toward his face, soft human fingertips ever so slightly brushing up against his mandible.

Garrus gave an involuntary shudder-he'd never felt her touch before without gloves or armor. But he didn't want to hope, not after last time. He had to be clear.

But Shepard got there first. He felt her press her human lips against the leathery skin of his neck, her breath washing over him as she whispered, "I'm sorry. You'll have to take it easy with me, ok? I haven't done this in years."

She lifted her large blue eyes to meet his. "Why the sudden change of heart?" he said. He didn't want to go through all this again.

"I want you," she said simply, her voice shaking a little. "I thought I was being responsible by denying that, but all I did was make you upset. And I know we might not have much time left."

She continued, her grip on his hand tightening. "I want to feel your body against mine. I want to taste you, to touch you. I want-"

Their eyes met, and suddenly, the building tension in the room snapped. She found herself pressed against the wall, Garrus's arms holding her against him, his face against her neck.

"Shepard," he breathed, and goosebumps prickled along her skin. She ran her hands along his fringe, and he shivered from head to toe. "Spirits, Shepard..."

He suddenly had to touch her with his bare hands. He practically ripped off the gloves in his haste and ran his hands along her bare arms. She gave a soft cry of surprise-his skin was hot, almost burning to the touch.

He felt her lips pressing against his cheeks, scarred mandible, along his neck and fringe, little feather-light touches. Her hands found the catches of his armor and began to unclasp them when he suddenly stopped.

"Wait," he panted. "Not here. Not now."

"Garrus-"

"My turn to be responsible. I don't want this to disrupt the crew. I think it's best we wait."

She glared at him, but deep down, she knew he wasn't just stalling. He was right. But it didn't keep her from burning with curiosity as she eyed the catches on his armor. Garrus caught the direction of her gaze and chuckled.

"Can't burn through this armor, Shepard. Not without a gunship, anyway." One of his hands came up unconsciously to touch the scarring-only to be intercepted by her.

Her lips brushed against his scarred cheek. He felt rather than heard her murmur his name. For a long minute, they just stood there, hands clasped, her head resting in the crook of his armor.

Garrus's eyes caught the mirror. "So," he teased gently, "happy with your gift?"

He felt her lips curl into a smile. "Best Christmas ever," she replied. "I wonder if Kelly left any mistletoe lying around..."

Garrus wrinkled his nose. "Mistletoe? Sounds like some kind of fungal infection."

Shepard burst into laughter and shook her head. "You'll see what it is if I catch you under it." Eyes twinkling at Garrus's worried expression, she picked up the mirror and turned it to catch their reflections.

One thing hadn't changed in the intervening years. It was just the two of them reflected in that surface. Only two, as providence willed.


	5. Ties that Bind

She couldn't decide whether this was the best or worst idea ever. Hot? Definitely, despite the discomfort of the outfit she was wearing. But the blindfold around her eyes and tightness of the leather outfit at her chest and waist made her feel completely helpless. She couldn't decide whether that was arousing or just plain terrifying.

Garrus's arms came around her, and he gently picked her up and placed her on the bed face-down. She felt his blunted talons run along her exposed backside and squirmed a little.

"Safe word, Garrus," she said, and he marveled at her composure. Even in this getup, her voice was still calm, commanding. He was pretty sure he'd be a complete wreck in her shoes. Boots. Whatever.

"Calibrations," he said with a grin, and she snorted with laughter.

"You're an ass."

"And you're a charmer." He paused for a moment. Part of him still wasn't really sure he wanted to do this. Part of him wasn't sure she wanted to do this. Turians weren't particular gentle individuals by nature, and he'd taken exceptional pains to prove to Shepard that he was different.

But he couldn't forget what she'd whispered to him as they lay in bed after the Collector base. "Sometimes I'm sick of being in charge. Of having all these burdens laid at my feet. I almost wish someone else could just tell me what to do for a change."

And when he'd been at a loss on how to help her, the extranet provided him with the idea for this.

Still hesitating, Garrus touched her cheek with the back of his hand. "You ready?" he asked. "We don't have to do this."

Blunt, but at least he was giving her an easy way out. Still, Shepard was nothing if not stubborn. Once she set her mind on something, she rarely backed out, no matter how scared or uncertain she was. She nodded her assent, and she immediately heard the tinkling of the chain attached to the collar on her neck.

Garrus wound the chain around one of his hands until it was taut, just tight enough to cause her some discomfort. He placed his other hand around her waist and pulled her up so they were both kneeling on the bed with him behind her.

She felt a sudden tug as Garrus unzipped the crotch of the leather shorts she wore. There was silence for a moment before she heard the beeping of an omnitool, and the distinctive hum of a vibrator. He slid it slowly inside her.

That was simple enough. She felt a smile curling around the corner of her lips. "Is that all?" she asked.

Only to feel Garrus tug sharply on the chain, causing her to yelp. "Unless I ask you something, the only things I want to hear out of your mouth are 'please' and my name. If you can't even handle that, I'll gag you. Are we clear?"

There was a kind of menace in his voice that she rarely heard, and never directed toward her. It sent goosebumps along her skin. But it also made her want to fight back, just a little. She shifted a little against his grip, testing his resolve.

Garrus felt a lick of anger, mixed with excitement. He should've known Shepard wouldn't go along with this without some resistance. Her precious pride wouldn't let her. Without warning, he flipped her onto her back and forced her arms above her head, pinning her legs with his.

"Don't push me, Shepard," he growled. He ratcheted up the setting of the vibrator suddenly, causing her to gasp and jerk against him. He had to pause and close his eyes-the sight of her like this was driving him mad, but he had to keep his cool.

Damn Garrus and his hand-to-hand combat training. Damn the advantages of size and strength that he had over her. And above all, damn that vibrator alternating between fast and torturously slow, keeping her from thinking straight.

Cold handcuffs closed around her hands in a flash, locking her to the metal frame of the bet. A moment later, she felt more metal wrap around her ankles, securing her in place. She wasn't uncomfortable or in pain, not exactly, but even with her biotics, she couldn't break through the thick metal without snapping her own bones.

She heard Garrus give a satisfied huff, his hot breath spilling over her bare skin. Then suddenly, he wasn't on top of her any more. She turned her head, trying to find where he'd gone.

The vibrator hummed inside her, and she felt her hips jerk. "Garrus?"

"Shut up. Do you know what it's like to really want someone, Shepard? Crave someone so badly that everyone else pales in comparison?"

His hands returned, rubbing her clit slowly as he pushed the vibrator in and out of her body. She bit her lip, determined to keep silent even as white-hot pleasure shot along her veins.

He continued in that same low, rough voice. "Two years, Shepard. You pulled me in like a satellite to a star. You did it to all of us. And then you vanished and cut me loose."

"Two. Fucking. Years." He punctuated each word with a thrust of the vibrator, and Shepard balled her hands into fists, still struggling not to cry out.

"I spent two years longing for something I couldn't have. Do you have any idea what that feels like?"

He dialed the vibrator down even as his fingers increased their speed. He could see the tension in her shaking arms, and he had to hand it to her that she didn't start begging. Even though that was what he eventually wanted to hear.

"I'm going to teach you what it feels like," he whispered.

He withdrew his hands, but kept the vibrator in. She heard him removing his own clothes, but he still didn't touch her for almost five minutes. He just watched her lying there as he slowly dialed the setting up higher and higher.

"My name. Say it."

"Ah!" she gasped as the thrumming between her legs spiked. "Oh god..."

"Wrong answer."

He roughly pulled the vibrator from her body, then stepped around to the other side of the bed. There was a click as the handcuffs came undone and he forced her to a sitting position. He was probably standing on the bed between her legs, because she suddenly felt his erection pressing against her lips. He grabbed her hair with his right hand, holding her in place.

"Open your mouth."

Was he crazy? Mordin's first bit of advice had been not to ingest. She was fine with spicing up their sex life, but hell if she was going to risk shock over him. "Garrus-"

"Do it." His voice softened a little bit, and she heard him sigh.

"You need to let go, Shepard. You need to trust me."

He didn't sound angry, but rather reproachful. Like an officer reprimanding a subordinate. He nudged the tip of his cock against her mouth again, and this time, she obliged.

He let out a soft groan. "Good girl," he rumbled. One taloned hand grasped her shoulder, the other her hair, and he began to move her head back and forth, pleasuring himself with her mouth. His iron grip made it impossible for her to dictate the pace. All she could do was swirl her tongue around him, hoping to drive him over the edge.

His growls grew louder and more feral, and just when she thought she'd have to do something drastic, he pulled himself from her mouth and pushed his cock against her breasts. He let out a low groan as he climaxed on her, supporting himself by holding onto her shoulders. For a minute or two, there was only the sound of his heavy breathing.

When he'd mastered himself, she felt cold air hit her nipples as he unzipped her sodden top and tossed it aside unceremoniously. "That was one fantasy of mine," she heard him say with a chuckle in his voice. I wonder how many I can share with you before I wear you out."

He ran the vibrator along her slit again, and she heard soft laughter. "You're so damn wet, Shepard. I could take you now, and you'd be begging and pleading with me. Wouldn't you?"

She wanted to say no, but that would be a damned lie. More than anything, she wanted him to TOUCH her. Wanted to feel the strength of his hands, the heat of his body. But he kept their contact to the absolute minimum, and it was driving her crazy.

The bed shifted as he sat behind her, one hand now clamped on the back of her neck. "I asked you a question," he purred, his voice dangerously soft. "Would you beg for me, Shepard?"

"Yes." Her answer came in a whisper.

"Do you want me, Shepard?"

"Yes." A little louder this time. Garrus hid his triumphant smile against her shoulder.

"Then you'll do exactly as I say. Can you do that for me, my dear?"

She let her muscles go limp, let him support her against his chest. Her eyes closed underneath the blindfold, and the last of her resistance broke as she whispered, "Yes."

He still handled her relatively gently as he undid the restraints on her feet and propped her up against the pillows so she was reclining on the bed, hands free. He pulled up her chair from the console and seated himself at the foot of the bed.

"Touch yourself," he ordered. "Slowly. You're not allowed to come unless I say so."

"Excellent," he said, trying to keep the shaking out of his voice. "Now, I want you to answer a question for me: tell me why you want me."

She looked startled , and for a moment, her hands stopped moving as she considered the question. He made a warning sound, and she quickly resumed her motions. She wanted to imagine that it was Garrus stroking her, but her own fingers felt nothing like his. He'd really wrecked humans for her.

"Your hands," she blurted out.

"My hands...what?" he asked.

"Touching me. Inside me," she said with surprising clarity.

"I see." He looked down at his own hands, compared them to hers. Her little pale fingers seemed so inadequate for pleasuring that glorious body of hers. He could feel himself becoming painfully aroused, but damned if he wasn't going to see this through until the end.

"Why else, Shepard? Give me another reason to fuck you." She heard him get to his feet and almost cried out with relief, but no-he simply moved her fingers and slipped the vibrator back inside her. She didn't dare stop pleasuring herself even as the sex toy pulsated, torturing her with every hum.

At that moment, she didn't know if she wanted to beg him or slug him. Maybe a little bit of both. Instead, she said, "Your voice," through clenched teeth.

That got a genuine laugh out of Garrus. She'd told him that before, on their first night together. "My voice," he echoed. He leaned closer and said, "So you think it's hot when I tell you that the sight of you dripping wet and at my mercy is the sexiest thing I've ever seen. Telling you I want to fuck you senseless turns you on."

"Garrus..." she moaned, increasing the pace of her fingers.

"No. Not until I say you can. Remember who calls the shots here, Shepard."

He took a moment to savor the sight of her, burn it into his memory. She was blindfolded, legs splayed and ankles bound to the ends of her bed. Her head rested back against the pillows, mouth open and pale skin flushed. And she was touching herself slowly, even though he knew she'd like nothing better than release, because he told her to.

He had to close his eyes. "So we've got my hands, my voice. Anything else? You're not that superficial."

She let out a sound halfway between a gasp and a sob, but didn't say anything. He could see her fingers working frantically, and in a flash, he stood up and pulled them away, holding her wrists.

"Shepard," he said warningly.

"Garrus..._please_..."

The raw pleading in her voice made his heart pound. "No," he replied, unable to keep the shaking out of his voice. "We can do this all day, Shepard. I'm not going to let you come, and I'm not going to fuck you."

The vibrator thrummed inside her, just enough to hold her on the edge while denying her release. She gasped and writhed, but Garrus was relentless. This time, he was going to win. His heated breath poured over her skin, her breasts, between her legs, but he never touched her except to hold her fast.

She felt tears of frustration welling up behind her closed eyes. "Please-"

"Answer me, Shepard."

She drew a deep, shuddering gasp, her mind too clouded to make any excuse or draw any walls around her. "You. Everything about you." She strained against his hands, turning her blindfolded face toward him.

"Everything? That's a little weak, don't you think?" he asked, one of his hands starting to inch its way down her belly.

She went limp underneath him. "I love you," she whispered. "I love you, you infuriating jackass!"

He stared at her, stunned into silence. He hadn't expected to break down all her barriers. He wasn't sure what he'd been trying to achieve with all this, but he couldn't just let this go.

He released her hands, letting her tentatively reach up to touch his face and fringe. Slowly, he pulled the vibrator from her body, removed the last of her clothes, and unbound her legs.

The last thing he removed was her blindfold. Her eyes were wet, but she looked up at him with a tentative smile, her expression more open and trusting than he'd ever seen.

That humbled him more than anything he'd done to her. "What do you want me to do?" he asked, awestruck. A request, not an order.

She kissed his cheek and whispered, "Make love to me."

* * *

And when she said those words, everything collapsed. The fantasy of control, the struggle of wills. They both won. They both lost. He stroked her hair and pushed himself inside her in a single, violent thrust, both of them crying out in relief.

She was so wet she was soaking the sheets, and Garrus had never encountered more of a turn-on. She whispered filthy things into his ear as he took her-lick me, bite me, harder you turian bastard-and he obliged to the best of his ability.

She was so ready that it took only minutes for her first orgasm to take over her, and it was all Garrus could do not to follow. He pulled out, watching her shake and tremble underneath him with the force of her climax. He wanted to give her more. He needed to.

Before she was really done, he turned her unresisting body over onto her stomach and slid into her from behind, pulling her hips up off the bed. His fingers came down and started rubbing between her legs.

"Come for me, love," he said. "Just once more. I want to hear you scream my name."

It was like a litany falling from her lips-yes, Garrus, please, oh God Garrus-and it was the most beautiful thing he'd ever heard. He pressed her soaking clit with the back of his talons, and he suddenly felt her spasm around him for the second time, sobbing his name into the pillow.

"Shepard-" he moaned, pushing himself to climax. She turned around just in time to see his face in a silent mask of ecstasy, his eyes fixed on hers as he came. He collapsed on top of her, pressing his face against her back.

There was something different about her when he came to enough to really look at her. Like all the layers of her life had been peeled back, and he was finally looking at just the woman herself shining through. She let out a long, contented sigh and kissed his neck.

Garrus looked at the slight marks on her wrists, neck, and ankles where he'd restrained her. He was about to apologize, but she shook her head. "Don't worry," she said. "Besides, I'll get my revenge on you soon enough."

She laughed a little at the look on his face. "Oh, come on. I can play nice."

"Right," he said dubiously, glancing at the discarded clothes on the floor. There was no way in hell he was putting on the outfit, but the chains and the handcuffs were a possibility...

"And besides, I don't think I need to tie you up for you to give yourself to me," she said quietly. "You just did."

He kissed her then, gently exploring her mouth with his tongue. She wrapped her arms and legs around him, pulling him close as she tossed the blankets over them both.

When she finally pulled away, she heard him ask, "So what would you have done differently?"

Shepard had to turn away to hide her grin. "You'll just have to wait and see, won't you?"


	6. Drabbles

_Drabblet 1_

Damn Shepard. Damn her and her insistence on sparring with him. Damn that easy laugh, that cocky smile, the speed and flexibility with which she moved. He shut the door to the showers and securely locked the stall. Maybe EDI could spy on him, but he honestly didn't give a fuck at this point.

Water streamed down his body, warm and smooth. He turned his face into the misty spray, imagining her breath against his face. She had been so close while they were sparring that he could almost taste her-sweat and heat and just a hint of something sweet.

His hands were nothing like hers, but they'd have to do. He closed his eyes, and instead of feeling his own hands running down his torso, he imagined hers. Small palms, five slender fingers, both soft and strong. Her teeth followed, nipping lightly where his talons caught the edges of his scales. The fantasy kicked into high gear when he touched himself, hissing softly under his breath at the contact. Shepard's hands, Shepard's strength.

Thank the spirits for showers and their ability to drown out sound. Soon he had one hand braced against the cold metal of the stall, the other working himself into a slow frenzy. Garrus rolled the pad of one finger along his tip, groaning softly, imagining her slim fingers doing the same. This time he was deliberate, slow, not hurried like he usually was.

This time, he was doing it how she would.

He could even picture her kneeling in front of him, eyes laughing as she held him in both hands, lips parted ever so slightly. But he surprised even himself when he hit the soap dispenser and began moving more quickly.

Not her hands, but her lips. Her mouth.

A violent shudder ran through his body, and he gritted his teeth painfully to keep himself from crying out. The thought of Shepard kneeling in front of him, Shepard's lips, her teeth and tongue working over him-

The strokes came faster. Behind his closed eyes, he could see her hair, slicked with water, her head bobbing as she pumped him in and out with her mouth. Those eyes holding a challenge, a dare.

"God, Shepard..."

He was suddenly acutely aware of the water running down his scales. She was everywhere-hands in the little rivulets of water streaming over his scales, breath in the increasing steam, lips and teeth slick against him.

Familiar heat began to slowly build up in his body, but instead of speeding up, he slowed his pace. Shepard would be a tease. She'd wait, alternating between her hands and her mouth, until he could bear it no longer. He sped up the movement of his hand, then slowed to almost a standstill. Did it again and again until his entire body was shaking with the effort of holding back.

Shepard wore a triumphant grin as he began to pump himself rapidly with both hands, her hands ghosting his movements, his harsh gasps and growls filling the air. He came violently, pulling back from the wall with a soft roar.

His legs were shaking so badly he had to put out both arms against the metal door to support himself. He chuckled a little to himself as he imagined what she'd say-something about safety, maybe. As he cleaned himself up, the touch of the water changed. Her hands were gentle, her eyes warm and kind.

When he opened his eyes, the fantasy dissolved, and he was by himself once more. Clenching his teeth against the ache that inevitably rose in his chest, he got dressed and headed back to the main battery, his mind still filled with sensations of Shepard.

_Drabblet 2_

"Garrus, this was a terrible idea."

He laughs, a low rumble that she can feel against her ribs and spine as the two of them tumble helplessly through the air. "I think it's fun," he says as he pushes her in one direction. Physics sends him flying in the opposite one, trying to restrain his laughter at the look on her face.

"Turn off the gravity in the empty cargo hold, he said," she mutters under her breath. "It'll be fun, he said. Goddamn you, Garrus." Blue energy pulses around her arms and legs as she uses her biotics to propel herself into him with no little force, slamming him none-too-gently against the wall.

He's having none of that. He likes zero-g, liked it even in training, and he's not about to let her wreck that. He catches her around the waist, and with a twist of his body, they're floating again, her struggling against him. Her hips grind against his, and he feels a lick of heat shoot down his spine.

"All right," he says quietly. "If that's how you want to play..." With one quick rip of his talons, her shirt comes off, the loose pieces of fabric floating free.

Shepard's eyes blaze. "You unimaginable turian bastard," she says, eyes narrowed. How a soft human can look so menacing is beyond him, but he feels his stomach turn over at the slight smile curling her lips. Quickly, before she can gain the upper hand, he puts his talons in the belt of her pants and yanks. She yelps and struggles, but only succeeds in turning them upside down.

Chuckling a little in surprise, Garrus slips his hand in between her legs and begins to stroke her. She lets out a soft gasp, and a shudder runs down her body as they tumble through space.

"You are-not-doing this now," she whispers, her arms literally shaking as she fights to master herself.

"I am." His voice is soft in her ear, low and smooth. "Are you going to stop me?"

She's seriously considering it, but then one of his rough, strong fingers slips into her body and she lets out a low moan. One of his knuckles finds that little spot of nerves and begins to rub with torturously slow circles. She clings to him like a drowning swimmer, feeling heat pool between her legs even as they spin, floating in place.

"So you're not going to stop me," Garrus murmurs. "Are you going to come for me, Shepard?"

"Goddamnit." The words escape her in a breathy rush as Garrus's fingers increase their pace. Her head swirls, her world disappearing in a rush of sensation and dizzying motion. "You're making me delirious."

Her hands clutch at his fringe, sending shocks down his spine. He looks at the woman in his arms, pink lips parted, cheeks flushed with lust, and suddenly, he has to have her. He pulls his hand from her body, eliciting a disappointed squeak.

"Garrus..." she whispers. "You can't just do this to me and-"

"I'm not," he says as he hastily removes his own clothes. He reaches a hand out to her, seeing her eyelashes flutter at him. Her pupils are wide, her pulse rapid. The two of them turn upside down again, and she closes her eyes and moans.

"Still dizzy?" he whispers as he rubs his hips against her. Her only answer is a startled gasp, followed by her hands clutching the backs of his shoulders. He eases himself into her, moving slowly.

"How do you feel now?"

"Dizzy. Hot. Can't think."

"Good," he says, fighting for control. It's difficult moving with her while they're in zero-gravity, unable to leverage against anything, but soon he builds up the pace and she begins to moan uncontrollably.

"Come for me, Shepard," he whispers in her ear, and she complies with a soft cry, her body spasming around him. He lets himself go with a quiet roar, burying his face in her neck.

It takes longer for them to recover, but Shepard is the first to do so. She lifts her head from his shoulder and looks around at their floating, discarded clothes. "I think you've changed my mind," she says with a smile.


	7. Alternative to Hot Chocolate

"Did I ever mention that turians hate the cold?"

"...yeah. Twice."

"You're going to punch me if I mention it again."

"...yep. So shut your face and help me figure out how to get this thing going faster."

Garrus sighed. He'd explained twice to Shepard that they were effectively snowed in after leaving the Mako out in the snow outside Peak 15, and that the only option they had was to slowly siphon energy from the main guns to the engine. Garrus grumbled softly to himself. Wrex didn't have to be out here in the snow fussing over the engine. Then again, Wrex would probably just shoot the recalcitrant machine.

"Shepard, if you want to fight a losing battle, go ahead. I'm heading in," he said.

"No, you're not. Who's going to warn me if I'm about to blow this thing up?" she said, grabbing his arm. Garrus let out a sigh, hitting his head against the metal of the Mako with a soft thunk.

"Fine. But I'm getting into the Mako. Trust me, I'll be able to tell if you're about to get us both killed."

"Asshole. Leaving poor little me outside in the snow." Shepard turned large, pleading eyes on him. Damn humans and that stupid expression they all seemed capable of doing. He sighed and took her hand, pulling her away from the hood of the vehicle.

"Come with me, then, if you're so set on monitoring the Mako. I'm not going to leave you to freeze. You'll be able to do about as much damage inside anyway."

Shepard didn't really want to admit it, but Garrus was right. The two of them had been outside for over an hour fiddling with it, and there was no other safe way to de-ice the engines. Garrus refused to risk a loud and violent explosion no matter how much she asked, so it was the several hour approach. She opened the hatch of the Mako and hopped in after him.

The interior was still pretty cramped, but without an eight hundred pound krogan, there was a little more room. Garrus checked the vehicle's readouts, paying particular attention to the little green engine gauge. "I'd say about another four hours at this rate."

"Four hours," groaned Shepard. "What the hell am I going to do for four fucking hours?"

Garrus shrugged, curling himself into a ball as best he could. There was no wind in here and the Mako was relatively well-insulated, but it was still far too cold for his liking.

"Pansy," said Shepard with a teasing grin. For a girl who'd grown up in an orphanage on Earth, snowstorms were old hat.

"Thanks, Commander," replied Garrus. The cold wasn't doing much for his mood, but apparently Shepard still had the good grace to tease him.

She shrugged. "This kind of thing happened every year on Earth," she said.

Garrus's mouth dropped open, his mandibles splayed in astonishment. "How the hell did you stay warm?"

"We did have internal heating, Garrus," she said dryly. "Other than that...I dunno. Hot chocolate." At his confused expression, she continued, "A kind of warm drink."

"Anything more, I don't know, applicable to our current predicament?"

Shepard thought about it for a moment. "Curl up under blankets, sit in front of-" She suddenly cut herself off, and leaned over into the driver's seat, reaching for the medical kit under the controls. Garrus watched in utter bemusement as she rooted around inside for the medical blanket and pulled it out.

"Take off your armor," she said.

Garrus gaped at her, quite sure he was experiencing some kind of hypothermia-induced hallucination. He was definitely starting to shiver now.

"Armor. Off," said Shepard again, tapping insistently on his helmet. She started to strip off her own armor, tossing the segments unceremoniously into the Mako's back seat.

"Shepard-what-"

"I'm cold too, you ass. Take off your armor, and we'll curl up under the blanket to keep warm," she said quickly, her cheeks flushing a little. It wasn't until she'd gotten down to her rather scanty underarmor and started removing his that he realized she was deadly serious. She unhooked his helmet and tossed it over the seat. The physical constraints of the Mako's construction made it impossible for her to stand up straight inside-she was almost leaning on top of him.

Garrus swallowed hard as her body rubbed against his through his armor. He had to be hallucinating. He had to be.

"Earth to Garrus?" A pair of human fingers snapped in front of his eyes.

"I-huh?" She backed away from him, and before he knew what was happening, he shot out a hand and pulled her back, almost into his lap. It_ was_ warmer with her next to him.

Shepard laughed and continued divesting him of his armor, her quick and clever hands now moving to the catches on the sides of his legs. Garrus thanked the spirits that turian underarmor wasn't as skimpy as the kind she was wearing.

"Scoot over," she said after she'd finished efficiently stripping him of even his boots.

"Shepard," he said, finding his voice for the first time in several minutes, "there's no room."

She considered it for a moment, shrugged, and crawled into his lap, pulling the blanket over the two of them. Garrus nearly had a heart attack. When he set out this morning, he had not expected to both meet rachni and end up with Commander freaking Shepard curled up on his lap.

It was one weird day.

"Better like this?"

It was difficult to say. On one hand, it was a lot warmer. In fact, it was getting uncomfortably so with the way she was shifting in his lap, trying to find a comfortable position. She finally settled for slinging one leg to each side, hip-to-hip with him with her head resting against the crook of his collar ridge.

Garrus tentatively put his arms around her shoulders, adjusting the blanket so it covered them both. He was glad she'd finally stopped squirming around. It would be exceedingly awkward for them both if-

"Hello," said Shepard. "I didn't realize your fringe had black tips." Before he could stop her, her curious human fingers had found the top of his head and begun rubbing the ends of his fringe.

Garrus let out an involuntary groan as heat shot through his body toward his groin. "Shepard," he said quietly, "I don't think that's such a good idea. Kinda sensitive up there."

Her hands mercifully stilled. She tilted her head to the side, looking thoughtfully at him. "Sorry," she said. "Did I hurt you?"

"No, it's not that, it's-"

"...oh."

Garrus froze, mortified. The underarmor was apparently thinner than he'd thought-or hoped. They sat there, staring at each other in a painful silence.

"Shepard," he said hurriedly, pulling the blanket aside, "I appreciate you trying to keep me warm, but I-"

"Shut up," she said quietly. "I said 'oh,' not 'ew.'" She was still giving him that thoughtful, almost appraising look. Then almost without warning, she ran all ten fingers along his fringe and pressed her hips against him.

The effect was electric. Garrus let out a deep growling sound and pushed his hips back up into hers, his eyes going wide. There was a small mischievious smile on her face as she continued to rub his fringe, sending small shudders of pleasure down his body.

Garrus had never once considered the notion that his beautiful commanding officer, desired by both Alenko and Dr. T'Soni, might be attracted to him instead. But the possibility was being literally shoved in his face as Shepard's breath tickled his neck.

"Playing with fire, Commander," he managed to choke out.

He felt rather than saw her wicked grin. "Fire? Sounds good. It's cold enough in here to freeze a monkey's balls."

"...that was a terrible pun, Shepard."

"So shut me up, wiseass."

Enough was enough. He might regret it later, but Shepard certainly didn't seem adverse to the idea. So he pushed aside his nagging doubts, and decided to oblige her. He turned his face toward hers and nipped experimentally at her ear.

He decided to take her shuddering gasp as a good sign, and continued to nibble mercilessly as his fingers found the zippers in her underarmor. The stuff wasn't too complicated, but he quickly found himself stymied by the strange contraption across her chest.

"Uh..." He looked at her helplessly.

"Hold on, big guy," said Shepard, chuckling. "I'll take care of this." She reached around to the back of the contraption. The next moment, she leaned forward, and the thing slid down her arms, exposing her chest to his curious eyes.

He gave one breast an experimental poke, eliciting more chuckles from Shepard. He was pretty sure laughter wasn't the response he was supposed to get, so he leaned forward and ran his tongue along the tip.

"Hey," Shepard whispered, fighting for self control as Garrus's tongue found her nipple. "I'm the only one without clothes. This...ugh, Garrus, you turian bastard...not fair."

He stopped licking and leaned back, giving Shepard the turian equivalent of a small grin. "Well," he said, "get to it."

The next second, he couldn't decide if upping the ante was the worst or best idea he'd ever had. Shepard wriggled from his grasp, sliding between his legs to her knees. The cold hit him as the blanket shifted, but suddenly he didn't really care when her hot breath danced across his lap.

"You," he said through clenched teeth, "are..._evil_."

Shepard laughed again, removing his pants with torturous care. She blinked a little once she'd divested him of the bottom half of his underarmor, eyes now fixed on his erection.

"Are you supposed to be...blue?" she blurted out.

"What did you expect? Fleshy pink?" Garrus retorted. She continued staring at him, something he couldn't help but find arousing despite how painfully self-conscious he felt.

Then her tongue darted out and rubbed against his tip, and Garrus stopped caring about everything else in the galaxy. What she was doing to him with her warm mouth and expert tongue shouldn't be possible. Or legal.

"Sh-Shepard," he gasped after a few minutes, digging his talons into her bare shoulders to get her attention. "Y-you-need to stop-soon-"

The vibration of her laughter around his cock made him clench the seat and groan loudly, but she obliged, climbing back into his lap. She wrapped her arms around his neck, her touch surprisingly gentle.

"You good with this?" she asked softly, and for once, she didn't sound like her usual confident self. Garrus smiled and bumped his forehead against hers. He felt her eyes flutter closed, and she slid him into her body in one slow, smooth movement.

It felt absolutely nothing like being with a turian, and Garrus honestly didn't give a fuck. She was warm and tight and so goddamn bold, her hands running over every inch of his rapidly heating body in an attempt to explore every unfamiliar inch. Sweat beaded on her forehead as they pushed and yielded together.

"Nice alternative to hot chocolate," he mumbled, burying his face against her shoulder. She let out a shuddering laugh.

"You-oh, God-wouldn't be able to...drink it anyway," she said. He was about to retort when she pressed her lips against his mouth, her tongue pushing gently at his lips. She moaned softly, and he suddenly felt her whole body clench around him in sharp spasms.

Fuck-turian females definitely didn't do_ that_. He seized her hips and thrust once into her, ecstasy overtaking him in great shuddering gasps. Somehow he had the presence of mind to pull the blanket over the two of them as they slowly caught their breaths.

"...well," said Shepard. "I've figured out what I'm doing for the next four hours." She grinned a little. The windows of the Mako were distinctly fogged up with condensation.

Garrus laughed, his hands absently stroking her sweat-dewed back. "Well, Commander, no one can say you lack for creativity."


End file.
